Sabotim
by FandomTech CEO
Summary: One ill-fated (as always) mission featuring Qui-Gon the grey and padawan Obi-Wan
1. Sabotim Part 1

The stiff temple sheets practically crinkled as Master Obi-Wan turned over in his bed, unable to quiet his mind. He examined his own thoughts through the force, searching for the source of the growing seed of fear that he could not shake. He found his mind being pulled, once again, to the faded scar on his arm. It was more of a light blur than a noticeable break, but Obi-Wan was unable to forget its presence.

* * *

"Light'n up, ya soggy piece 'a cardboard," their pilot called cheerily from deep inside the cockpit. He looked like a baby squid, with his head in an oversized helmet and the rest of him tangled in the ship's guts: wires and computer chips of every type. With the cloudless Coruscant sun forcing its way through the silt-coated windows in wafting streams, the picture of a pint-sized deep sea creature has nearly perfect

"I'll get this ship on its way before you can find a spot to set your bags down."

"We don't carry any bags," Obi-Wan said.

"What a' ya, droids?" The pilot looked up from his work. He had the face of a child, younger than the senior padawan Obi-Wan by at least 3 years. "Oh, Jedi. I should'a figured they'd get one a' ya eventually. Ma name's Oak," he said, rapping his knuckles on his helmet. A visor popped over his face, and he returned to doctoring the ship's systems. "At least that's what it'll be once 'm a fighter pilot."

"A fighter pilot?" Obi-Wan was amused.

"Th' academy at B'jándu, Next session i'll be sit'in inna simulator, then at the pilots Acad'my. Then 'am shootin' things up with yah Jedi friends."

Qui-Gon appeared, knocking on the door frame to announce his presence.

Oak shifted his visor sideways to see him. "Ah, an' here's tha othah one! What can I get ya, then?"

"A working ship, at the moment."

The pilot laughed heartily. "That, I can do." He stuffed an alarmingly large bunch of wires behind a console panel and took the pilot's chair. Systems and panels started flickering to life all around that bridge. The engines woke up with a concerning coughing noise, instead of singing their usual hum.

"We'll be fly'n in a bit. Best find a spot 'a sit down."

Obi-Wan followed as Qui-Gon down the hall. The radio-chatter behind them faded as the sound of the engines grew louder. Thy hadn't even reached the cargo hold yet, when the floor lurched so violently that Qui-Gon stumbled and Obi-Wan was thrown to the ground.

"Let's hope our pilot is better at getting us to our rendezvous than taking off," Obi-Wan grumbled, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head dramatically in protest. Qui-Gon grimaced in agreement, offering his padawan a hand.

...

In the cargo bay, there sat three unmarked metal boxes, the size of coffins. Each was identical, indistinguishable from the others. Obi-Wan ran his hand over the rounded edge of one, finding no lines or cracks.

"Is this the shipment we're supposed to protect?" Obi-Wan asked. "What's inside?"

"I don't know, my young padawan. The council allows no knowledge of it, save its destination."

"Should we open it. We can't very well protect something we know nothing about."

Qui-Gon studied the chilled metal with a thoughtful look.

"See these seals?" He ran his fingertips over the raised black band that encircled the casing of each container. They were as smooth as running water, yet as hard to the touch as glass.

"They're ibiendran seals, forged with tempered igneous obsidian from Qat. As long as they're intact, they form a perfect pattern. Very hard to break, very hard to escape from."

The Jedi Master pulled back, as if sensing a hidden danger. "Someone is very intent on keeping these shut. Come, let us discover the rest of the ship. We have nothing more to learn here."

Qui-Gon rested his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder as they left the hold.

...

"Hey, Jedi, tha's a problem in the lounge room nex'door a ya. You'd betta check it out." Oak's voice carried badly over the ship's comm system.

Obi-Wan set down his ration pack, having barely taken a bite of whatever heavily-salted greenish patty today's special was. "What kind of problem, Oak?"

"Looks like one a tha droids is throwin' a fit. I would check it ma'self, but I got ma own problems-" The wall speaker coughed with thick static. "-here I'm dealin' with."

Qui-Gon's voice croaked through the speakers, "I'll see to it." The speakers glitched out a series of tones. "-happening with you?"

"Hyperdrive's just tryin' a leave us behind. I'll fix it." Oak said.

"Very well."

Qui-Gon passed the food bin on his way to the lounge. "What are we to eat today, padawan?"

Obi-Wan held up the moist slab of probably- hopefully -vegetable. It flopped sadly to the side. "It think it's a hamburger."

"Hmm. Could use some ketchup," Qui-Gon suggested, turning round the corner.

Obi-Wan called down the corridor to him, "Remind me to pack some next time I follow you into deep space." He looked at the sorry circle of protein, sighed, and shrugged. Stuffing the whole thing in his mouth, he jogged after his master.


	2. Sabotim Part 2

Obi-Wan rounded a corner to find his master pressed up against the wall beside the doorframe. He lifted a finger to his lips, silencing Obi-Wan, who joined him at the wall.

Qui-Gon gestured to room, urging Obi-Wan to look inside. ' _Carefully'_ , he sent through the bond.

Inside was an average droid, probably a repair worker, who was rooting around in the ship's electronics. The consoles sparked in disapproval.

"What is it, master?" he whispered.

"I believe it's a sabotim class droid."

"I've never heard of any sabotim class."

Qui-Gon thought for a moment. "Are you familiar with the ship Dehstroyead?"

"Yes. Its computer systems crashed while in hyperspace. The survivors were stranded for weeks."

"That's not what happened. It had a sabotim on board. These droids are programmed to destroy ships from the inside out. So far, we know of four Republic vessels-"

The droid turned around and fired an energy bolt at Qui-Gon. With unbelievable reflexes, Qui-Gon dodged it. He flipped across the room, his lightsaber bursting alight. He landed by slicing the droid perfectly in half with a resounding humm.

"-four Republic ships we think were destroyed by such a droid." One half of the droid was still beeping excitedly, so Qui-Gon impaled it with his lightsaber.

"Why would the Republic program their droids to do this?" Obi-Wan asked, crouching to inspect the other half.

"They didn't. Nobody knows who made them." Qui-Gon turned off his lightsaber. "Now, what was this one doing in here?"

"It could have been doing anything. This section of the ship has all sorts of databases and navigation charts. Maybe it was looking for information."

"Not likely. The sabotim class is known for-"

The sabotim droid's inner machinery started clicking at hearing its name. Obi-Wan kicked it, with little success.

"-known for destroying the systems and machinery of a ship, not reconnaissance. Could you find a way to turn this thing off?" Qui-Gon finished.

"From here you can access life support.." Obi-Wan messed with the droid that stubbornly refused to shut down, even after it's sudden reduction in size. "Also the port thrusters, water recyclers, motion stabilizers,"

"Force knows those are already bad enough," Qui-Gon said.

"My point is there's no way of knowing for sure." Obi-Wan force gave up and force-pulled a huge chunk of sparking wires from the droid, finally shutting it up. "There you go."

"We must find out. These droids never act without purpose."

Obi-Wan turned it over to see a heavy-duty blaster in its casing. "Master, is this droid the cargo we're supposed to guard? Was this in those boxes?"

Qui-Gon's silence was confirmation enough.

"Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't want to. It way the council's wish that only I know of these droids' existence."

After a moment's silence, Obi-Wan pulled back sharply. "These Droids? As in more than one? Master, there were three boxes."

Qui-Gon was already gone, dashing down to the hold. His footsteps made the deck ring hollowly. Obi-Wan followed. Halfway through the ship, he caught through their bond a hint of apprehension.

The ship's alarm system shouted a shockingly loud warning. ' _You deal with the alarm, I'll check the crates.'_ Qui-Gon sent through their bond.

Obi-Wan confirmed, and tracked the alert to the mechanical heart of the spacecraft, the engine room. He ran through the ship, cutting every corner. He stopped only when he saw the engine room doorway. The entrance had been blown apart, leaving a ragged puncture wound in the corridor, bleeding out melted wires and metal.


	3. Sabotim Part 3

The engine room was a chaotic storm of flashing lights and warning alarms, a hurt ship screaming for attention. Obi-Wan rushed in, immediately flying into repairs. Goodness, this machinery looked like someone had let a demon loose in here. There was so much to fix, he didn't even know where to start.

Feeling a sense of panic rising, he reached out to the force. He let that guide his repairs, drawing on both his own knowledge and the intuition of the force. He found himself changing settings, moving cables, and flipping switches, letting the force tell him what needed to be done.

That was, until he heard a panicked yell that could only be Oak. He lost focus, looking away and dropping one hand from his work to his lightsabre apprehensively. He heard the machinery beside him crackle and remembered too late the dangerous electricity cables he was reconnecting.

The cable exploded in a shock of electricity and smoke, launching Obi-Wan across the chaotic engine room.

* * *

Qui-Gon knew before he reached the cargo hold what he would find. The floor was streaked with thin, long, dark shards of razor-sharp ibiendran seal. They blocked his path, but he could see from a distance the smoldering remains of a metal case. It was maimed into jagged edges, torn apart by metal-melting heat. It was clear that the crumbled sabotim droid in the destroyed box had been the culprit. It had probably triggered its own destruction, warping the other two boxes just enough to shatter their seals, freeing their droid occupants.

Now, he was silently stepping through the bunk room in search of the last undestroyed droid. He had tracked the last (he hoped) sabotim to the ends of the ship and back again. Droids on ships were so annoying; their presence in the force blended with the rest of the mechanical ship. Qui-Gon had to admit, though, whoever created these sabotim droids was a sith of a programmer. Qui-Gon's wild goose-chase had left him winded, frustrated, and sure that either the sabotim or he had to leave the ship, and quickly.

Qui-Gon felt the floor shake with an explosion. His mental link with Obi-Wan flared painfully for a brief moment, then fell quiet. The ship's lights turned out. He reoriented himself in the blinding darkness. He hesitated for just a moment, remembering just how badly the ship had been damaged during his unwilling tour of it. Something darted off in the shadows. Qui-Gon let it run away. With no lights, a confrontation would be time wasted. He had to cut his losses and protect his padawan. His lightsaber's glow led the way.

"Obi-Wan, we have to leave now!" Qui-Gon leapt through the engine room doorway, covered in sweat. He held his lightsaber defensively, as if guarding the door.

"Mastehr," Obi-Wan said quietly. He was a pile of disheveled robes atop the carbon-scrubber. Obi-Wan stared absently at the newly scarred engines. A pipe burst and bled a metallic-blue liquid onto the machinery, causing small fires and explosions around him.

"No time to argue. Can you run?" Qui-Gon asked, looking at Obi-Wan's darkly reddening robes.

"I, I- " Obi-Wan struggled.

Qui-Gon quieted his lightsaber and bent over his padawan. His eyes were unfocused, uttering unintelligible words both through expression and their link. He unsuccessfully shielded his pain.

He pulled Obi-Wan up by the waist, draping his arm over his shoulder. At the door, Qui-Gon turned on his lightsaber in his free hand. They made their way down the hallway to the only escape pod.

Just before the pod, they ran into Oak the pilot. He was panting, wide-eyed, and looked skittishly over his shoulder every few seconds. He clutched a small blaster close, but obviously had no idea how to use it.

"There's a crazy droid run' around," he cried.

"Do you know where it is?" Qui-Gon asked, trying to calm him down.

"It was shootin'!" Oak totally ignored the question. "How did it…? Droids can't shoot!"

"We're headed to the escape pod." Qui-Gon strengthened his suggestion with the Force. "Come with us."

Oak mumbled something about his ship, but then turned to follow.

The only warning Qui-Gon had was his padawan stirring instinctively in his arms to a change in the force. He heard a blaster fire behind him, and turned back to see Oak crumple to the floor. Qui-Gon turned to face the droid at the end of the corridor, deflecting the shots effortlessly with his lightsaber. He scooped up his limp padawan, bridal style, so that he could carry him away.

He carried the dazed Obi-Wan into the escape pod and lay the boy down gently on the floor. Qui-Gon paused for a moment, searching the force for Oak's presence. He looked up, pained, and dashed back into the main ship again, his lightsaber ready.

One destroyed droid later, he brought Oak into the pod and lay him down next to Obi-Wan, who was trying to sit up. Qui-Gon quickly separated the pod from the ship, activating the autopilot. As the pod detached, the artificial gravity weakened to nothing.

Obi-Wan's stirrings accidentally sent himself flying in the zero G. environment. Qui-Gon sensed and caught him mid-flight before he could crash into a wall. He pushed him to a padded bench, buckling the sleeping restraints around him. "Stay here, Obi-Wan."

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan breathed.

He secured Oak in another sleeping bench, taking stock of his injuries in the process. The pilot was far worse off than his Padawan. Gui-Gon could barely sense his consciousness. And then there was the rather large matter of the blaster hit on his stomach. The kid seemed to curl up around it in the absence of gravity.

Qui-Gon grabbed a medpac from the netted storage opposite him and opened it to find two bacta bandages, one small can of paste, and a mess of thin cotton ties. Looking at his two young charges as the three of them drifted alone deep in the outer rim, he knew it was not enough.


	4. Sabotim Part 4

Sorry for the failed first attempt to publish this chapter. A weird glitch happened somewhere between the word processor I use and transferring it to here.

* * *

Obi-Wan had had his fair share less-than perfect awakenings, but suddenly finding oneself in zero-G was not one he would like to experience again.

At least before, he had known which way was up. Now, the only thing he was sure of was that he ached all over. It wasn't until he was securely situated in the escape pod bench that the world started to make a small bit of sense again.

"Master, why are you sideways?" Obi-Wan mumbled, confused.

Qui-Gon spun to face him, aligning with his apprentice until Obi-Wan felt as if he were standing up as well. A wave of swaying disorientation slammed into Obi-Wan. So much for the world making sense.

"We're in an escape pod, there's no artificial gravity, so it's zero-G. You're disoriented, close your eyes." Qui-Gon said patiently.

"I don't understand."

"There is no gravity here, I am neither sideways nor upright. Don't try too hard. Imagine yourself floating in a pool."

Obi-Wan tried to find something to anchor his sense of direction on, but found so much contradiction that he had to stop looking. Feeling rather nauseous, he shut his eyes tightly and focused on the feel of the fabric cushions under his head. His master was saying some gibberish about ups and downs and concussions and directions, but at least Obi-Wan knew the padding he was pressing his head into was real.

Qui-Gon's hand was suddenly holding his, and his voice broke through the confusion. "Obi-Wan, I need you to focus on me. Can you do that?"

Nodding was out of the question, so Obi-Wan squeezed his hand in reply. The simple action somehow amplified his agony, making him almost lose focus on his master.

"Listen to me, padawan, you're hurt, you're chaotic."

Obi-Wan sarcastically thought ' _oh really?'_

Qui-Gon seemed less than amused. Obi-Wan chanced opening his eyes, but instantly regretted it when the world started looping around him. He forced himself into a breathing meditation. Nothing but a steady, measured rhythm of breath. It seemed like forever before he finally achieved an acceptable level of control.

After a while, Qui-Gon's hand left. His long over-cloak rustled as he soared away across the tiny spacecraft. He heard him shrug off the cloak and tie the floating mass of fabric to a wall fixture, more of an obstacle now without gravity. Obi-Wan could tell his master was concerned. He inquired with his mind, and found a third, vaguely familiar, presence in the escape pod.

Obi-Wan spoke, feeling grounded for the first since waking up. "How is the pilot?" he asked, understanding the third mind he had sensed.

"Alive, just barely. He needs bacta," Qui-Gon said from opposite the pod.

"There should be a supply somewhere here."

"Some cream and two bandages, that's all," Qui-Gon reported.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, despite his disorientation. On the other side of the small pod, he could see Qui-Gon leaning over Oak, who was secured in a bed similar to the one Obi-Wan was in. His face was as grey as his pilot's uniform, which now hung dark with blood. Qui-Gon's expression was dark, clearly not optimistic about Oak's chances.

"That's not much bacta to work with," Obi-Wan remarked.

"Don't trouble yourself, i'll take care of it." Qui-Gon launched himself back to Obi-Wan, flipping upside-down to Obi-Wan. He groaned quietly and closed his eyes to block out his master's confusing antigravity way of navigating the pod.

Qui-Gon voice was a carefully measured calm, soothing Obi-Wan as he tried to assess his injuries. Obi-Wan instinctively tried to reach out for him, and found himself restrained to the bed. He moved his arms, and one protested in pain. He was able to keep his response to a small gasp, but he could still sense his master's concern. He felt the sleeve of his robe being carefully pushed up. Qui-Gon's gentle banter stopped, and he breathed in sharply.

"Your arm needs aid, and I don't envy your concussion," Qui-Gon said. The familiar crinkle of a bacta bandage wrapper jarred Obi-Wan's headache further. "I'm going to bandage your arm," Qui-Gon warned his padawan.

"But what about the pilot? He's much worse off." Obi-Wan asked.

"He'll just have to hope we are rescued soon." Qui-Gon had removed the shiny outer packaging, and searched the inner sterile seal for an opening tab.

Obi-Wan stopped Qui-Gon with his good arm. "You mean you're not going to help him?!" Obi-Wan said incredulously.

"No, you are just the greater priority."

"Greater priority?! That boy is a citizen, a servant of the Republic-"

"-and you are training to be a jedi," Qui-Gon said, "a knight of the peace-"

"-and you consider him a lesser priority?!"

Obi-Wan's thoughts were finally running in nice, neat trains. He glanced over at the other bed. Oak was clearly in need of attention.

"Master, you can't favor me over him."

Qui-Gon reached out to smooth out Obi-Wan's hair tenderly.

"I can wait until a rescue party comes, I'm in no danger," Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon's voice was full of concern. "Padawan, I can't let you suffer."

Obi-Wan looked away. It would be so easy to do nothing, to accept the kindness his master was offering. But he had a duty to Oak. Obi-Wan sighed. "Promise me, master."

"Promise you what?"

"Promise me you'll do everything you can to save Oak, including-" he gave his master what he hoped was a stern look, "-giving him all the bacta."

"Obi-Wan,"

"He'll die without it, master."

"So might you."

"That's a lie, and you know it," Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon's eyes were full of care and concern. The silence of space filled the pod for a long moment.

"Please, master, save him for me."

"For you, my padawan, I promise."


End file.
